Lunar Halo
by camillexelisabeth
Summary: She was broken, and he was the proof. She did her best to get rid of him; she pushed him away as far as she could. But he came back, oh how he came back. He traveled 2,000 miles just to tell her he was still alive. And it was all her fault.
1. Running

[**_A/N_**]: HEY GUYS.

I'm back again with yet another brilliant story, and I'm flattered that you're here to read it.

It's fairly self-explanatory. Go for it.

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><p><strong><em>Lunar Halo<em>**

_Chapter One: Running_

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><p>The goddess shifted to her left slightly, glancing nervously behind her. She had gotten separated from her Hunters several hours ago, but thought nothing of it. That is, until she remembered the eclipse tonight. She hated eclipses. They weakened her greatly, to the point where she was almost unrecognizable.<p>

Her heart was beating a little faster than normal as she searched for a place to hide. The eclipse was due to last only seven minutes. She was immortal. Nothing bad was going to happen.

She found a small outcropping of rocks, and crawled under the largest one. She sucked in a jagged breath and waited for the agony to begin. With her eyes locked on the full moon, she watched as the earth's shadow began to eat away at the bright body of light. The full eclipse would leave her powerless and vulnerable.

Just as the final bit of the moon was inside the shadow, she heard a twig snap. Then another. Something heavy was stumbling through the woods. She pressed herself against the rocks as hard as she could. Her breathing was shallow and her heart was racing.

Six minutes left, and she could make out the body of a man. He was tall and lanky, and walked awkwardly, like he was still getting used to his long legs. He was coming straight towards the rocks, and as he approached, she began to panic. She tried going into her immortal form, but her source of power was under a heavy veil, and she couldn't even produce a spark.

The man crawled under her rock and suddenly realized he was not alone.

Five minutes left, and she could smell the heavy alcohol on his breath. He couldn't have been a day over seventeen, yet he looked like someone had aged him greatly.

Four minutes left, and he stared at her for a long while before speaking. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, coming closer to her.

She stuttered with her words, "Go away."

Three minutes left, and he smiled wickedly.

Two minutes left, and he grabbed her roughly.

One minute left, and he left her broken and crying under the rocks.

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><p>She glared at the bundle of cloth at her feet. The hell it had put her through only made her more willing to draw her bow on it. A silvery arrow was pointed at its heart, and she drew the string tighter. Just as she was about to kill the creature, it woke up, and stared up at her with big, foggy blue eyes.<p>

It only took this one moment for her resolve to weaken. She sighed and lowered her bow. She couldn't do it. She couldn't kill an innocent creature.

She sank down on the hard rocks and stared at the thing. For nine months she had hidden away from the world, telling only her closest advisors. She couldn't afford for this secret to get out. Yet, here she was, poised to kill the only thing that stood between her and complete freedom from this burden, but she couldn't bring herself to draw its blood.

It cooed and stretched its tiny arms up towards her. Her head fell into her hands, and frustrated tears built up. Why couldn't she just kill it?

And then it hit her. She couldn't kill it because she felt something. It wasn't love, but it wasn't the distain she had felt just moments ago, when her sharp arrows were notched.

When she picked it up, she didn't cuddle it closer to her, but instead held it away from her slightly. She carefully pulled a drachma from her hunter's pouch, and searched the area for a source of water.

But the rocks were bone dry, and her search was in vain. Exasperated, she threw her head back and rubbed her eyes to sooth the building frustration. When she finally opened her eyes to stare blankly at the heavens, she was greeted by a surprise.

A perfect circle surrounded the full moon, casting a silvery glow. A bleached rainbow shimmered above her in the winter sky.

"Lunar halo," she whispered.

If she was lucky, this would work. If she was incredibly lucky, this would work. But obviously she wasn't having the best of luck as of late.

"Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering," she said, her voice barely audible.

The drachma evaporated out of her open palm, and a faint mist conjured in front of her. For a moment, she stared at her reflection in the glow. Then the thing squirmed in her arms and she remembered her purpose.

"Chiron, Camp Half-Blood," she said clearly, and the mist shimmered.

A smiling man with a scruffy beard greeted her. "Goddess, to what do I owe the honor?" he said, bowing his head slightly.

She kept a hard face as she lifted the bundle in her arms into view. "I need you to take care of something for me."

The centaur's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

Artemis may not have loved her son, but she was going to protect him.

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><p>My hair was always in my eyes. I could never seem to keep it neat or combed, no matter how hard I tried.<p>

I guess that's why, when the javelin came flying at me, I didn't see it. Either way, it hit me square in the chest, throwing me to the ground and knocking the wind out of me. It was a blunt weapon, but the sheer force of the throw was enough to make me see stars.

I gasped for air and struggled to find my voice. "Son of a b—"

"Ryan, are you okay?" someone asked.

I shot the kid a glare. "Do I look okay?"

He cringed at my harsh tone and helped me up. "I'm fine," I said, and brushed the dust off my armor, smiling at the kid.

The other instructor laughed lightly. "And that's why you always pay attention," he said, stooping to pick up his javelin.

I smiled wryly, even though I was still breathing a little funny. Sam and I were finally old enough to teach the younger campers, and we relished in the opportunity to reek havoc on the next generation of demigods.

Sam lightly tossed the javelin to a small girl and she caught it clumsily.

It had been a long day of training when we finally let the new campers go. Sam sat down next to me in the dust of the arena.

"So how does it feel to finally be sixteen?" he asked, glancing sideways at me.

I shrugged. "No different than fifteen, I guess." I had turned sixteen three days ago, but the day had just been a normal one.

I drew random lines through the dirt with a knife. "I'm bored," I finally said.

Sam smiled crookedly and said, "Then let's do something."

"That's not what I meant," I mumbled, but he ignored me and got up. Sam extended a long arm towards me and I took it reluctantly. "It's almost dinner anyway," I said.

Sam shrugged and started walking towards the pavilion. I followed behind him, stumbling along, my breath still ragged from the javalin hit.

"So what's up?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence between us.

I shrugged lightly as we passed the cabins. "Just doing the same thing I always do. Waiting."

Sam stopped and looked at me. "Dude, just ask for a quest already. You've been at this place for your whole life, and the only thing you've done is train. Train for what?"

I sighed. "I train so that one day, when I leave, I can defend myself. That's all. I don't want to go on a quest. I'm perfectly happy sitting here wasting away waiting to get claimed," I said angrily.

"Chill, Ryan," Sam said harshly.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

Sam's expression softened. "It's okay. Look, I know you've been waiting for sixteen years and no one's claimed you yet. But it's not because you're not special. It's because you're not...loved?" He smiled weakly.

I rolled my eyes. "You're really helping."

"Shit man, I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say at this point. I want to be optimistic, but you might just not want to get your hopes up anymore," Sam said quietly.

I shrugged it off and bit back anger. Sam may have been my best friend, but he was brutally honest with me, whether I liked it or not.

I needed that though. Without his bluntness, I'd still be eagerly waiting to be claimed, and each birthday would be another year of disappointment.

I put on a mask of happiness, and followed Sam all the way to the pavilion.

I sat next to Sam, at our usual spot. The Hermes table wasn't as crowded as it used to be, but we still had more campers than the other cabins. The food looked delicious as usual, but I couldn't bring myself to eat.

Sam had been claimed years ago, as a son of Hermes. I thought times had changed, that I would be claimed by my mother or father, but unfortunately for me, no such thing had happened. I was stuck in limbo.

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><p>As midnight approached, I was still wide awake. I had never had trouble sleeping until a few months ago, and the stress it had put on me was building up. I hadn't had a full night's sleep in weeks.<p>

I quietly crept out of the cabin, and made my way to the lake. Silently, I lifted a canoe, snatched an oar, and clumsily got it in the water.

I paddled to the middle of the lake, then laid down on the floor of the canoe. With Nyx's silent rise, the moon emerged. I usually watched the parade of stars and planets, weaving themselves across the black tapestry. The bright lights above me would soothe my thoughts, and the sounds of a quiet sky would calm my raging nerves.

But not tonight. Tonight, I felt restless and frustrated. I wanted to get up and move, to run out of this place and into the world. I felt trapped in this tiny canoe. My thoughts were racing at a million miles an hour, and I couldn't stop them.

Finally, I stood up. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that I was in a canoe. I fell into the cold lake with a splash, and broke the surface with a gasp. The frigid water helped clear my head, and as I searched for the oar, I glanced over my shoulder at the Big House, and realized that all the lights were on.

I stared for a moment, taking in the strange sight before me. The Big House lights were never on this late. I climbed into the canoe, and paddled back to the shore, and sprinted to my cabin, in hopes of finding dry clothes.

I rushed into new clothes, and stumbled out of the door pulling a shirt over my head. I ran all the way to the Big House. I crept onto the porch, and ducked under one of the tables just as the front door opened. Chiron strode out, followed by a girl who looked to be about my age.

She held her head high and proud, and walked like she was royalty. She was pretty enough, but something about her scared me, like she was the type of girl that could kick my ass.

"If you find her, please, Iris message me immediately," she said urgently. "She disappeared not far from here."

"Of course, Lady Artemis," Chiron said, bowing low.

My mind was wiped. I was in the presence of a goddess. I'd never met anyone more important than the cabin leaders before, and I felt my heart speed up as her feet passed beside where I was hiding.

Her footsteps stopped and she turned back towards Chiron, staring at him in silence. "How... how is my son?" she asked quietly.

I stifled a gasp. Artemis had a son? What the—

Chiron's hooves against the wood brought me out of my thoughts. "Ryan is doing very well. As you know, he recently turned sixteen."

I was completely floored. My mind went blank as I continued to listen.

Artemis nodded. "Of course I know. How could I forget?" she said softly. Her back was turned to me, and her voice was barely audible, but I could hear the deeply buried pain.

Her wavy auburn hair was the only thing visible, and I reached up to my own messy hair, and pulled out one strand. I held it up so that it was in line with hers, and the colors matched perfectly. I slowed my breathing as best I could and pressed myself against the wall, staying under my table.

Chiron touched her shoulder, and she shook off his hand. "I really must be going now. The Hunt is off to Zion in the morning. Jackalope season, you know." She paused for a moment before continuing. "Remember, if you hear any word of Wallace, contact me immediately," she said sternly.

Her skin began to glow and I closed my eyes. When I finally reopened them, she was gone, and Chiron was striding into the house.

I was out from under the table and sprinting through camp within seconds. My legs pumped back and forth, carrying me back to my cabin. I raced in, not caring to be quiet. I grabbed my slouchy old backpack off the floor and stuffed a few clothes into it.

I trekked to the camp store, and picked the lock quietly with a bobby pin. I stole a compass, an old roadmap, a pocket knife, and a small amount of nectar and ambrosia. At the armory, all I managed to snatch was an old sword. I didn't dare take anything better than that.

And with the final essentials, I stumbled across camp, through the gate, and into the world.

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><p>[<strong><em>AN_**]: I did what I said I would never do...PLEASE DON'T KILL ME.

I know it's kind of a fucking weird as shit concept but bear with me hear. I wanted to write an original, slightly realistic son of Artemis story and this was the only thing I could think of. Because it is my personal opinion that Artemis would never willingly give up her virginity and have a kid. So bite me.

Obviously fast paced. I'm sick of writing stuff that doesn't get exciting until chapter twelve. So shoot me.

You likey? Show me some love, baby. I like reviews and favs and alerts. I do it for the love.

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><p>-camille<p> 


	2. Learning to Sew

[**_A/N_**]: Oh hey there. Chaptah dos? Yes sir.

Someone yesterday asked an important question that I guess I forgot to explain. A lunar halo is exactly what it sounds like. A bleached rainbow around the moon. Go look it up. It's purdy cool.

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><p><strong><em>Lunar Halo<em>**

_Chapter Two: Learning to Sew_

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><p>I made it surprisingly far before I had to stop. I was a decent runner, but my legs were sore, and my breath was heavy. I sat down on a nearby rock and considered my lot.<p>

How many of the gods knew of my existence? Who knew of my parentage? Who was my father? Why would Artemis break her vow?

The whole situation made my head spin, and the headache that soon followed was crippling. I slid off the rock and onto the dusty path, laying on my back. I stared upward towards the empty sky.

Except it wasn't as empty as I thought. The sky was filled to the brim with stars and planets. Directly above me, the moon was shining bright. Around it, shimmering white, was a bleached circle, casting an eerie glow.

I was fascinated by the way light managed to fill even the darkest night, and began tracing the circle with my finger. I began drifting away to sleep, when a rustle in the bushes jostled me awake.

I leapt to my feet and pulled the sword from my belt. I crept towards the bush, prepared to kill anything inside. But when I pulled back the leaves and held my sword at the ready, all I found was emptiness.

I lowered my weapon and stared blankly. I could have sworn I heard—

Slam!

I was on the ground in a split second, pinned down by an unseen force. I struggled, but something knocked my sword from my hand, and then a heavy foot pushed down on my chest.

Silhouetted against the moon, a dark figure leaned over me. I could see a silvery bow strung and pointed at my neck, and I panicked.

"Who are you?" I asked gruffly, but the figure only pushed down harder with its foot.

"Shut up," a feminine voice growled. "Trying to kill me, where you? I should shoot you on the spot!"

I squirmed and begged like a little girl. "No! I wasn't trying to kill you. I was just trying to see what was in the bushes, honest. I thought you were a monster."

"Demigod?" she asked, and I nodded vigorously. "Figures," she mumbled, and relaxed her bow.

"Can I get up now?" I asked nervously.

She seemed to just now realize that her foot was still holding me down, and quickly helped me up. As I was dusting myself off, I tried to take a closer look at her, but I noticed that she was slowly rocking back and forth on her heels, and her face was blank. I realized to late what was happening.

She collapsed, and I barely caught her, just inches from the ground. I laid her down gently and looked her over, checking for obvious injuries. Finding none, I sat back and wiped my sweaty forehead with the palm of my hand. But for some reason, my skin felt more moist than before, and I touched it with my other hand.

My fingers came back covered in crimson. I glanced down at the first hand and it was drenched in blood. I searched for her wound, and finally realized that the side of her white shirt was stained deep red.

I could feel myself begin to panic as I lifted her shirt slightly, exposing the deep wound. I took a deep breath before reaching into my backpack for the first aid kit. I pulled the box around and laid it next to me. I looked back at her side and had to turn away. It was slightly disgusting, and I was slightly squeamish.

I steeled my nerves and reached into the box for rubbing alcohol. My hands were shaking as I poured the liquid over her gash. I started to take deep breaths, and examined the cut closer. It was deep, and she was loosing blood at an alarming rate. I glanced into the kit desperately, and my eyes fell on a needle and medical thread.

Oh gods, I couldn't do this.

But my hands reached for them anyway, and my not so nimble fingers struggled to thread the needle. I almost threw up as the sharp metal pierced her skin.

As the minutes ticked on, I had to pause multiple times to calm myself. I thanked the gods that I had skipped out on dinner that night. Finally, I tied the thread off and sunk back. My breathing was heavy, and my head was pounding. I pulled out a long, thick bandage and struggled to wrap it around her body. Eventually, I tied it tightly and laid down next to her.

I couldn't believe I had actually made it through that without throwing up. My hands were shaking violently, and I struggled to settle down. My mind was just as restless as before, but I was conscious of the shivering girl beside me. I stripped off my jacket and laid it over her.

I stood up, rubbing my sore head, and began to gather pieces of wood for a fire. I needed the warmth right about now.

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><p>When she finally woke up, her eyes were wild. "What happened?" she asked frantically, trying to get up, only to collapse back down.<p>

"Chill," I said, pushing her lightly to keep her down. "Are you a demigod?" I asked.

She nodded and began to talk, but I ignored her and handed her an ambrosia square. "Eat it," I commanded.

She obeyed and scarfed it down like it was the most amazing think she had ever tasted, though it probably was. Ambrosia was a taste of heaven, or rather, Olympus.

"I'm Ryan. What's your name?" I asked.

"Wallace," she said between bites.

My head snapped up. "Wait, Wallace?" She looked at me skeptically and nodded.

"Artemis is looking for you!" I blurted, expecting a gasp at the least.

She merely laughed and shrugged. "Of course she is. I'm one of her top hunters."

I suddenly noticed her attire. Her white shirt and dark jeans weren't what tipped me off, but instead, I noticed a leather pouch at her hip, a silvery braided headband across her forehead, and a small crescent pendant hanging around her neck.

My eyes met hers for a brief moment and I glanced down quickly, getting a sudden idea. "Can you take me to her?" I asked frantically.

Obviously taken aback, Wallace scoffed. "No," she said harshly.

"Well I stitched you up! You owe me something," I said pleadingly.

"Absolutely not!" she said again, this time sitting up.

I stomped out the fire, and shrugged. "Fine. Don't take me. But I doubt you even know where Artemis is," I said calmly, but in my head I was praying desperately that my plan would work.

Wallace blinked, looking lost for only a moment before regaining her former vigor. "Of course I know where she is," she scoffed.

I laughed. "You have absolutely no idea. And you're hurt. How do you expect to make it across the country with that bad of a wound all by yourself?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and I realized my slip-up. "How do you know that she's across the country?" Wallace asked carefully.

I shrugged mildly. "Just guessing. But if you don't want my help, I guess I can just leave you here. All alone. Injured. Without food or water. Stranded."

Her face was filled with such fear that I almost felt bad threatening her, but if she caved, it would be so worth it.

I watched her reactions carefully, waiting for her reply. "Don't leave me here," she whispered.

"Well you're of no use to me, so I might as well," I said coldly, with no real intention of abandoning her.

After a long moment of silence, she finally broke. "Fine! I'll help you find her," she said in defeat, but her eyes perked up and she asked, "Why do you want to see her anyway?"

I played off my nervousness with a shrug. "In time, dear Wallace," I said mysteriously, but she just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she mumbled.

I could already tell that this was going to be difficult.

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><p>Upon reaching the nearest town, I collapsed on a bench. I had half-carried Wallace the entire four miles, and she was a lot heavier than she looked. I left her on the bench with the promise that I'd be back with food and a map shortly. On my return, I found her hanging upside down off the bench.<p>

"What are you doing?" I asked with mild interest.

She sat up and smiled. "The world looks cooler upside down," she replied simply. When she saw the loot I brought back, her face brightened. "Oh, donuts!"

We feasted on the sugary goodness, and then I pulled out a small folded map.

I laid it out in the grass in front of me and examined it. Wallace sprawled out next to me and pointed to New York City. "We're around here, right?" she asked.

I nodded and put my finger on Utah. "And Artemis is here."

Wallace whistled. "This should be fun."

I sighed, and let my head fall into my hands. "This should be difficult," I mumbled.

"What, two thousand miles isn't that bad," she said cheerfully, but I silenced her with a glare.

"Someone's grumpy," she muttered, scooting away.

"Well," I said as optimistically as possible, "We should probably get ourselves on the road."

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><p>[<strong><em>AN_**]: Wallace is my favorite name in the whole wide world.

Review or die.

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><p>-camille<p> 


	3. Flapper

[**_A/N_**]: Hey. Read.

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><p><strong><em>Lunar Halo<em>**

_Chapter Three: Flapper_

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><p>I insisted that Wallace rest up, but she refused. Instead, she decided that we absolutely had to start on our journey right away. She rifled through my backpack while I traced possible routes on our map.<p>

"You have no money," she said with a huff.

I shrugged. "I have a couple of drachmas," I offered, but she ignored me, opting instead to getting up carefully and marching off towards the nearby grocery store, my backpack in hand.

"Wallace?" I called after her. "Come back!" But she just shushed me and continued limping.

I tried to concentrate on my map, but I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like she was about to do something stupid. About five minutes later, she came bolting out of the store and straight towards me.

"Run!" she screamed, and I didn't have to be told twice. I grabbed my map and dashed after her, just as an angry old woman shuffled out of the store.

"Thief!" she screamed, but we were already sprinting across town.

Wallace dragged me onto a small bus, and we hid in the very back, lying as low as possible without drawing suspicion. With a wave of her hand, the bus driver believed that our parents had our tickets, and that they'd be boarding shortly. When I asked her how she did it, she merely shrugged and mumbled about the forgotten art of Mist manipulation.

"Alright," she whispered. "This bus is headed towards New York City. We should be there within the next two hours, so use the time to rest."

I nodded and tried to relax as other passengers began to board. But I couldn't bring myself to calm down until the bus was moving. "How much did you take?" I asked quietly.

Wallace shrugged and pulled a bundle of twenties from my backpack. "I'd say around a hundred bucks." I whistled and she shoved the cash back. "Sleep," she commanded, and I did my best to obey.

Wallace had no trouble drifting off, but I couldn't manage. Instead, I took this as a prime opportunity to look her over. Her golden blonde hair hung in loose tendrils, and stopped just below her tan shoulders. It looked almost as if a beachy wind had tousled it slightly. I had noticed her light green eyes earlier, but not her thick dark lashes. Her face was thin, along with the rest of her frame, and she looked almost frail.

I felt oddly creepy staring at her while she slept, so I tried my hardest to drift off.

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><p>In my dream, I was hiding under a large outcropping of rocks, and my heart was pounding. For some reason, when I heard a twig snap, I became increasingly more terrified. I peaked out of my hiding spot and a man's figure turned towards me. I pressed my body back against the rocks, but it was too late; the man was already trying to claw his way into the small opening. Just when his hand reached out for my neck, I felt myself jolted awake by Wallace.<p>

"Wake up!" she whispered, shaking my shoulder.

"Huh?" I mumbled and rubbed my eyes.

"The bus is in New York," she said.

I glanced around and noticed the other passengers getting off. Carefully, I helped Wallace off the bus and into the station. It was well past dark, and the big city freaked me out, though Wallace seemed right at home.

But when I sat her down carefully, I realized that her white shirt was again stained with fresh blood. I ordered her to sit down on a bench, but she avidly refused.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

I rolled my eyes and pushed her down. "Hold still," I said as I lifted her shirt slightly and found her bandages soaked with crimson.

"How bad is it?" she whispered, her voice strained.

I shrugged, trying to keep her calm, and replied, "Not bad at all. Just needs some new bandages, that's all.

But when I unwrapped the old cloth, I nearly passed out. The stitching had come loose, and blood was again gushing from the wound. "Jesus, Wallace," I murmured. "What did you do?"

Wallace bit her lip, ignoring the question. Instead she pulled out the map and pointed to Chicago. "We should take a bus there. Tell you what, you go buy us tickets on the next bus, and I'll patch myself up," she said cheerfully, handing me the bundle of cash.

I eyed her suspiciously, but she shooed me away and I jogged to the ticket booth. "Two for the next bus to Chicago, please," I said without looking up.

"That will be ten drachmas," a raspy voice growled. I reached into my pocket when suddenly the words clicked and my head snapped up.

"What?" I asked carefully.

The old woman behind the counter was hideous. Her skin had a pale green tint, and her lips were stained with blood. Her fingernails were long and yellowing, and her hair was full of dust.

"I said that will be ten drachmas, demigod," she snarled.

I drew my sword immediately, facing her with determination. "Who are you?" I asked boldly.

She hissed at me and leaned forward, blowing her fowl breath into my face. She smiled and her sharp teeth came into view. "Achlys," she purred. "The demon of misery." She lept over the counter and her nails lengthened into sharp points.

I scrambled back a bit, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. "You have no reason to fight me," I said as strongly as possible, even though I was quivering.

She smiled again, her yellowing teeth sharp as her nails, and moved forward. "I haven't tasted demigod in a hundred years," she said with a low growl.

I held my sword at ready, standing as tall as I could. "Then come eat me, hag," I snarled.

She howled and lunged towards me, sharp claws extended in front of her. I slashed first, but she turned to vapor before my sword made contact, reappearing seconds later behind me.

She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed as hard as she could. I heard my back pop several times before I managed to break free of her tight grip. Taking another swing at her, I realized that she was untouchable. Every time I tried to stab her, she would evaporate and appear next to me, ready to strike.

I tried my best to evade her, but suddenly, she tackled me to the ground. Her sharp teeth hovered only inches above my face, and she smiled. "Oh, how I will enjoy you," she cooed, and I closed my eyes as she snapped forward.

Seconds passed, and suddenly, the demon shrieked, and evaporated into dust above me. I looked up, glancing behind me, and Wallace stood with her bow poised, the string still quivering from the arrow it had just released.

My breathing was heavy, and as I stood up, I realized hers was just as heavy, if not more. I wordlessly guided her to the bench, laid her down, and pulled out new bandages. I cringed at what I was about to have to do, and I carefully explained. "Wallace, I have to stitch you back up. It's gonna hurt, but I need you to be quiet, so people don't hear you," I whispered, pulling out the needle and thread again.

She nodded softly and eyed my hands cautiously. I lifted her shirt again, and began to sew her wound back up. Wallace's expression turned sickly, and with every new stitch, she turned a different shade of green. When I was finally finished, her breathing was more ragged than before, and her face was drained of color.

"You okay?" I asked.

She nodded weakly and put her head in her hands, pushing her hair back. She sighed lightly and sat straight up.

"Do you have any more nectar or ambrosia?" she asked, leaning slightly forward towards me. I handed her a square and she took a bottle of nectar. She ate the square quickly, and color returned to her face almost immediately. She poured a tiny bit of nectar on her fingers, and pressed them along the seam of her wound.

She sighed with relief and handed me the bottle. "Thanks for saving me," I said casually.

She shrugged back. "It was nothing. You have to watch out for those Underworld demons though. But hey, since there's no way to get tickets for a bus, let's take a train," she suggested.

The train station wasn't far, but we had to walk through a pretty rough portion of town. I'd never been to a city before, and the place made me nervous. I couldn't decide whether or not to trust Wallace's knowledge of the city, but it seemed easier to trust her than question her.

* * *

><p>Once safely on the train, Wallace closed the glass door to our cabin and locked it. She sat across from me and stared out the window.<p>

"Wallace?" I asked carefully.

She looked up, green eyes wide with curiosity. "Hmm?"

"How long have you been a huntress?"

She smiled broadly and leaned forward. "It was 1924. I was sixteen years old, happily strolling the streets of Chicago..."

As her words filled my mind, I was slowly taken back to the booming twenties, and taken through Wallace's past life.

* * *

><p>Wallace smirked at her little brother; only ten years under his belt and he was already chasing girls. His eyes grew wide as their giggles increased and one of them leaned forward to peck his cheek. His face turned bright red and he turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could.<p>

Wallace chased him back into the house, and their mother scolded her for running.

"Wallace," she warned. "Ladies do _not_ run. Ladies walk."

Wallace nodded meekly and grinded her movements to a halt. "Yes, mother," she mumbled.

"Wallace!" her mother chided again. "Ladies speak clearly."

Wallace ignored her this time, and trekked to her tiny room. She pulled out a book, and pretended to be busy. When her father finally came home, her family sat through a painfully silent dinner, and she excused herself early, on the account of a raging headache that she didn't actually feel.

Back in the privacy of her own room, she pulled the short black dress out of the back of her closet, and slipped it on. A long strand of pearls, a sequined headband, a sparkling black feather, and high heels lay on her bed as she pinned her long curls up into the signature bob.

She quickly but carefully drew on a thick line of black eyeliner, painted her lips bright red, and patted rouge on her cheeks. She threw on the rest of her attire, and waited for the signal. She sat on the edge of her bed, and before she could think over the decision and change her mind, a car pulled up across the street and flashed it's lights.

Wallace took a deep breath, and opened her window. As she climbed out, her stockings caught on the wood and ripped halfway up her leg, and she stopped to completely rip them off, because ripped stockings were worse than no stockings.

She sprinted across her lawn and opened the car door, glancing behind her to make sure she wasn't spotted by her parents.

"Hey, Wall," Warren said, and leaned across to kiss her on the cheek.

"Where to tonight?" she asked, returning his shallow affection.

Warren smiled slyly. "I'm taking you to my uncle's speakeasy," he said, putting the car into gear and coasting away.

Wallace smiled brightly, and as the pair strolled down to the basement of a large house. Warren knocked, and a slide opened in the door.

Immediately the heavy wooden door was opened, and a large man grabbed Warren into a tight hug. "Well if it ain't my favorite nephew!" he said with a laugh, then turned his attention to Wallace. "And you must be his lovely date, no?"

Warren beamed with pride. "This is Wallace."

Warren's uncle stepped aside to allow the couple to enter. Wallace took a long look around the club, and felt slightly overwhelmed by the realization that she was doing something very illegal.

After a brief chat between Warren and his uncle, the couple made their way to the bar. "Wall, do you want a drink?" Warren asked.

"I think I'll pass tonight, Warren," she said, distracted by the music.

Warren turned to the bartender and snapped impatiently. "Get my lady a cigarette, and I'll have a Bronx," he demanded.

The man passed Wallace a quellazaire and lit the cigarette at the end for her. "Warren, darling, let's dance," Wallace begged, but he shook his head and took a deep sip of his drink.

"Let me finish, Wallace," he said and downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.

"What is even in that?" she asked cautiously.

"Gin, I think," he replied and turned back to the bartender. "Another one of these!"

The man looked at Warren suspiciously. "Son, how old are you?" he asked and took his cup.

"Eighteen!" Warren said, obviously offended. "Besides, my uncle owns the place. Now another Bronx!"

Wallace rolled her eyes at her boyfriend and ventured out into the crowd, cigarette in hand. She didn't much care for smoking, but she had to keep up with the fashion somehow. She wandered around alone for about an hour, searching for some form of entertainment whilst her date drank himself into stupor.

Eventually the crowded, smokey room became too much for her and she stepped outside into the back alley. She sucked in a hit of tobacco and blew the smoke out into the cold air. Her legs were freezing, and she was beginning to wish that she had kept her ripped stockings on.

Wallace looked around the alley; it was empty. Except for this odd feeling that she couldn't shake that she wasn't alone. The feeling disturbed her so much that she turned to march back inside and demand that Warren take her home, but her foot caught on something rough and she tripped.

When she looked back up, she was face to face with the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. It was twice her height, with the face of a hideous man and the body of a massive lion. It raised a spiked tail, aiming straight towards Wallace, and she scrambled against the wall, screaming for help.

Her eyes were wide open when the attack happened, but it still didn't register. At least twenty silver arrows pierced the monster's hide and dozens more soon followed. Wallace watched with morbid curiosity, but remained pressed against the wall. As soon as the beast was dead, she shakily stood, and nudged it's bloody paw with her heel. Upon contact, the body dissolved into sand.

A group of young girls came out of the shadows, each carrying a silver bow and wearing silvery dresses. One of the older looking girls stepped forward to examine Wallace. She smiled slyly. "Zoë," she called behind her and an exotic looking teenager stood by her side in seconds, obviously ready to serve.

"Yes, my lady?" she said, bowing low.

"This girl. She's a demigod. Seems to be the right age," the first girl whispered to Zoë.

Wallace snapped her fingers lightly. "I'm still here," she announced impatiently.

Just then the heavy door swung open and Warren stumbled out. "Wallace!" he said harshly, grabbing her arm. "Come back inside. I need you to make an appearance."

Wallace sighed and nodded, stooping over to pick up her quellazaire, which still had her lit cigarette in it. "Of course, darling," she said quietly, but the girl grabbed her shoulder.

"You don't have to listen to him!" she said defiantly.

Wallace glanced up at her through thick lashes, desperately trying to find the courage that this girl suggested. With a deep breath, she turned her attention back to Warren, who reeked of alcohol, and demanded, "Warren, I don't want to go inside. I'm tired. Take me home."

Warren simply laughed and shook his head. "Wallace, come on, stop playing games. And who the hell are these girls anyway?" he asked, obviously confused.

The girl shrugged and answered, "No one you will ever know."

Warren cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. "Wallace, let's go," he said cautiously and tried to grab her arm.

But she was fired up, and looking for a reason to fight him. "Warren, I'm fairly sick of you telling me what to do all the time. I go to all these crowded clubs, smoke these nasty cigarettes, drink these disgusting cocktails, all because you tell me to!" she yelled angrily, stomping her heeled foot onto the damp asphalt. A tiny gust of wind whipped past her and rustled Warren's hair.

Warren took a slight step forward and glared at her, "Oh come on, Wallace. You're acting like a rebel without a cause."

Wallace scoffed and closed the distance between them, shoving him back. "Rebel without a cause?" she asked, her voice raising. "For one, I can rebel against my overprotective parents who've never even let me so much as breathe!" She grabbed her strand of pearls and dangled them in Warren's face. "Why do you think I dress like this and sneak out all the time? Why do you think I've kept you around for so long?" she said harshly.

Warren's face dropped and a shocked expression took the place of his usual smugness. "I knew I never should have dated a flapper," he mumbled and held out his hand. "Wall, I'm sorry. Now please, come back inside. We can dance, just like you wanted." He looked sincerely sorry, but Wallace was on a roll.

"No!" she said firmly. "And don't call me Wall. I hate that nickname. My name is Wallace!"

The two girls behind her had been watching with interest, and the tall one stepped forward, even with Wallace.

"I can help you," she said quietly, gesturing to Warren.

Wallace turned around to face her and asked, "How do you suppose to do that?"

The girl smiled deviously. "Join my hunt," she said simply.

"Pardon?"

"I am Artemis, Greek goddess of the hunt, and maidens. If you join me, be warned that you will have to remain a sworn virgin for the rest of your existence. But the benefits far outweigh any negatives. Immortality, security, friendship. The hunt is an excellent option for young girls, especially demigods."

Wallace's mouth hung open in a perfect O before she closed it into a slight pout, scrunching her eyebrows together. "What's a demigod?" she asked quietly, pushing her blonde hair out of her face.

"A child of the gods. Wallace, you're special. But with this gift comes life-threatening danger. Which is why your best option for survival is to join my hunt. I can protect you," Artemis said softly, extending her hand. "All you have to do is pledge."

Wallace glanced over her shoulder and studied Warren for a moment. His pleading expression mixed with fear and confusion was lost on her, and in another fit of anger she turned back around and steadily replied, "I want to join."

Artemis smiled and waved Zoë forward. The assistant stood by Wallace and motioned for her to kneel.

When Wallace looked up, she was staring into the silvery yellow eyes of the goddess. "Repeat after me," Zoë said. "I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt."

Wallace took a deep breath and took one last lingering look at Warren, who was pressed against the heavy door, obviously terrified. "I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis..."

* * *

><p>"After that, life was good. It's been an easy eighty-something years," Wallace said, leaning back into her chair.<p>

"You were a flapper?" I asked, fascinated.

"Oh yeah," Wallace said with a bright smile. "That last year of my mortal life was the best. Well, aside from Warren. But I do owe him something I suppose. Without him, I would have never joined the Hunt." She thought for a moment before speaking again. "I remember seeing the signs reporting me missing. Artemis would never let me visit my parents. I did sneak off occasionally to see if I could find them. I never spoke to them. I was scared that they would never let me leave again."

"I'm... I'm so sorry," I said quietly, lightly touching her knee.

She smiled softly, looking at me from under thick lashes. "It's okay. I know my brother looked for me for years. He almost killed Warren. I don't even know if he's still alive anymore. But I was thinking, maybe, since we're going to Chicago, that we could possibly see if my brother is still out there. This is my only chance to let him know I'm okay."

Her expression was so pitiful that it was almost impossible to say no. "Of course, Wallace," I said and smiled at her as best I could.

Her face brightened and she threw her arms around me. "Oh, thank you Ryan!"

I awkwardly returned the hug and we sat in silence for a good ten minutes before Wallace spoke again. "So, if you're a demigod, who is your parent?" she asked.

I choked slightly on my water, coughing and stuttering through my words. "I, uh, I'm unclaimed," I said as Wallace watched me suspiciously.

"Well why do you need to talk yo Artemis then?" she asked.

Again, I stumbled to get through the lie. "My sister... she joined. She's mortal, and our mom called and wants me to see if I can find her. You know, make sure she's okay."

Wallace shook her head. "You're wasting your time, Ryan. Artemis won't let you see her," she said firmly.

"I have to at least try," I said weakly.

"What's your sister's name?" she asked slowly.

I cringed. "Sarah?" I said quickly, but it came out like a question.

Wallace narrowed her eyes at me. "I don't remember there being a Sarah..." She looked lost in thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. "Oh, I'm pretty sure we picked up a girl three weeks ago named Sarah!"

"Yeah," I said with a brief moment of shock that my lie had worked. "That's her!"

Wallace settled back into her seat and stared out the window. "So, Wallace," I said distantly. "Who's your parent?"

"Zephyr," she said proudly. "The West Wind."

"That's so cool! What's he do?" I asked, in an attempt to diverge the conversation away from myself.

Wallace rolled her eyes slightly. "He's the West Wind. He sends all the winds from the west. You know, spring and summer breezes."

I nodded and smiled. I was heading west with a daughter of the West Wind. Hopefully this would be easy.

But we were two demigods heading across the country. Of course it wouldn't be easy.

* * *

><p>[<strong><em>AN_**]: I like flapper Wallace. Sorry if the flashback seemed awkward.

On a side note, I went to my first rave the other night. SO MUCH FUN! I make new friends everywhere ;)

Review and I'll love you.

Kthxbai.

* * *

><p>-camille<p> 


	4. Dancing

[**_A/N_**]: Hi, I love you all. Kbye.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Lunar Halo<em>**

_Chapter Four: Dancing_

* * *

><p>We got off the train and Wallace took off before I could catch her.<p>

"Wallace! Come back!" I shouted after her.

I chased her through the streets of Chicago, the streets she grew up on. She was incredibly fast, and it took a lot of effort to just keep her in my sight. When I finally caught up to her, we were in the middle of an old neighborhood, with lots of sketchy characters wandering around, but she didn't seem fazed. She was standing in front of a dilapidated house. It's wooden frame was rotting and falling apart, but Wallace still climbed in a window.

"Wallace!" I shouted and ran in after her. I grabbed her shoulder and she turned around and pressed her head against my shoulder. She was shaking and sniffing, as wet tears soaked my sleeve. "Wallace?"

"This was my house," she whispered after a moment to calm down. "This is where I grew up."

I didn't know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut, for fear of making her feel worse. She pushed me away suddenly and glanced around. The people here avoided eye contact with each other, and we were no exception. I followed her around the back of the house and kept watch as she pried open a window and crawled through.

She led me down a narrow hallway, dotted with crooked picture frames, until we reached a door at the end, which she carefully pushed open. It was painted light yellow, with lacy flowers across the top. "This was my room," she said quietly.

The house was still full of furniture, and Wallace's tiny room had a small bed, which was covered in a fine layer of dust. Even so, she laid down on it, pressing her face into the pillow.

"It still smells like home," she whispered, though the only thing I could detect was mothballs.

I looked around, noticing the girliness of it all. All of the furniture was white, and a small dollhouse was sitting in a corner. A vanity was placed next to the mirror, and I picked up a tube of lipstick, opening it to find bright red pigment.

"You wore red lipstick?" I asked skeptically.

"It was in style," she said into the pillow. She got up and took it from me. "It's still in style." She carefully applied a bit, staring at her reflection as she did.

When she turned around to face me, her mouth was painted bright red, and I began to be able to picture her as a flapper. "What did you wear in the twenties?" I asked suddenly, not even thinking.

Wallace looked a bit shocked, but she wordlessly opened her closet, and a wave of dust hit her like a wall. She filtered through her clothes and pulled out a white dress and a pair of high heels. She pointed to the hallway, and I stepped out of the room.

Five minutes later, she opened the door, and stood back. Her wavy hair was pinned short, a white sequin headband wrapped around her forehead, with a long bleached feather sticking up. Her short dress was layered with white tassels and light silvery tights covered her thin legs.

She looked like she was straight out of a history book. "Do you have a record player?" I asked.

Wallace smiled and nodded, wordlessly leading me into a medium sized living room. She put on a dusty record, and pushed the needle down. It scratched for a moment before a fast paced jazz song came on.

I extended my hand and smiled. "Dance with me?" I asked.

Wallace's face lit up and she laughed. "Yes!" she said ecstatically.

She grabbed my hand and twirled around, twisting and kicking and laughing. "Come on, Ryan! Dance!" she encouraged, taking my other hand and moving my arms for me.

I couldn't help but dance with her, and soon I was swept up in the moment. She taught me how to move my arms and legs just so, that I perfectly matched the rhythm of the music, but she was still a much better dancer than I was.

When the music finally ended, she sank into a chair in a fit of giggles. "Oh, Ryan," she said with a sigh. "I haven't danced like that since before I joined the Hunt."

As a slower tune come on, Wallace placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me to place a hand on her waist, clasping our other hands together. I said, "Wallace, just to warn you, I have no idea how to dance."

She returned a smirk and replied, "That's okay; I do."

She led me as best she could through the waltz, looking anywhere but at me. "Wallace?" I asked, and she glanced up at me. "Do you regret joining the Hunt?"

She bit her bottom lip slightly and sighed. "Sometimes."

I twirled us around and she smiled a bit. "This is what I miss," she said. "The company of men. Not in a romantic way, but just the friendships they provide. It's so different living with thirty some odd girls. It's like a constant sleep over without the gossip. When I was in school, my friends and I would giggle and whisper about boys. But in the Hunt, we obviously don't. It's just different. I mean, I love it. I love the immortality, I love the safety, I love the girls, I love everything about it, except the fact that I can't so much as look at a boy." She paused to spin under my arm. "You're the first boy I've talked to since Warren," she said quietly.

I smiled and said, "Well I feel special now."

Wallace laughed and let go off my hand as the music stopped. I paused for a moment without even thinking, and forgot to let go of her waist. "Uh, Ryan?" she said, leaning slightly away.

I snapped back and quickly pulled my hand away. "You should go get changed," I said to break the silence.

Wallace blinked in confusion, then looked down, seeming to notice her attire for the first time. "Oh, right," she mumbled and started back down the hallway.

I plopped down on the dusty couch and shook my hair out, putting my head in my hands. I started to reconsider what was I doing. I was attempting to go across the country with an injured huntress to find my mythical mother who wasn't supposed to have kids in the first place.

I was royally fucked.

Wallace walked out of her bedroom and sat next to me. I glanced over at her and blinked. "What the hell are you wearing?" I asked skeptically.

Wallace looked offended and stood up. "I used to wear this dress all the time!" she scoffed.

It was down to her knees, a soft pink, and tied at a high waist with a giant pink bow in the back. A matching bow held her hair back. I couldn't help but laugh. "Wallace, you look like a baby doll. This is 2012, not 1924. You're gonna stand out." I paused for a moment to enjoy her angry expression, when a thought hit me. "Why is there still the original furniture and your old clothes in the closet?" I asked.

Her head snapped up. "Georgie!" she shrieked.

I was taken aback by her sudden burst of energy. "Who?"

A smile conquered her lips as she ran back into her bedroom. "The only explanation as to how all our stuff is still here! My brother owns the place, which means he's still alive!" she yelled through the house. She grabbed our stuff and sprinted towards the front door. "Well, are you coming?" she asked.

I had remained sitting and when I stood up, I grabbed her arm. "Wallace, you don't even know where she is," I said softly, and her enthusiasm died.

"You're right," she said with a sigh. She looked up at me, eyes pleading. "Help me find him?"

I groaned. The look was again so desperately pitiful that my willpower crumbled. "Go find a phone book," I muttered.

Wallace threw her arms around me briefly before sprinting into the kitchen. I rubbed my forehead for a moment, then followed her.

"Wait, Ryan?" she asked, looking at me with wide eyes. "What's a phone book?"

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you found him!" Wallace squealed.<p>

It had taken two hours at the public library and quite a bit of explaining to Wallace. She had no idea what a computer was, and she wanted to know all about this "magical box." I had searched everywhere I could, and finally came up with a George Fredricks living in a senior citizens' home not far from the library.

Wallace was bouncing off the walls, she was so excited. "I get to see Georgie again!" She turned to me, gesturing to the top of her shoulder. "Last time I saw him he was this tall! Oh Ryan, thank you so much!"

I mumbled and grumbled the entire way there, worried about losing time. For all I knew, Artemis had already moved on. We walked through the sliding glass doors and into the tidy lobby. A lady was sitting behind the counter, a magazine in front of her face.

Wallace cleared her throat and the woman moved the magazine down slowly, raising an overly plucked eyebrow at Wallace's hopeful face. She smiled brightly at the chubby middle aged receptionist, and in return got a scowl.

"Can I help you?" she said impatiently.

"Yes, is there a George Fredricks staying here?" she asked sweetly.

"Nope," the lady said dryly.

Wallace's expression fell. "But we... I'm sure he must be here," she said.

The woman shrugged. "You're wrong."

"At least check!" Wallace begged.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she said mildly, but I slammed my hand down on the counter.

"Listen, lady!" I yelled, startling both Wallace and the receptionist. "Tell this girl where the man is or I'll take that magazine and shove it up your fat—"

* * *

><p>"Thanks for trying," Wallace said, patting me on the shoulder.<p>

We were sitting on the curb after my little outburst had gotten us kicked out. I was steal steaming mad and rolled my eyes. "It's not my fault her dead end life sucks. She shouldn't take it out on other people," I mumbled.

Wallace gave me a weak smile, and patted my shoulder again. "I think what you did was very... bold," she said as sweetly as she could manage.

"Whatever," I muttered. As much as I hated wasting the time to find her brother, she had been so happy when I agreed to help her. I wanted her to at least see him. Who knows how much longer he had.

I sat there, angrily brooding over the best way to get back in, when the glass doors slid open and an old man shuffled out. He stopped next to Wallace and sat down slowly, popping his knees.

"You must be Wallace," he said, smiling at her.

"Georgie?" she whispered.

The man shook his head. "No, but I knew your brother quite well. He never stopped talking about you. Showed me pictures of you all the time. That man loved you, Wallace."

Wallace reared up. "Where is he?" she asked quietly.

The man stood up. "I'm so sorry, but he had a heart attack yesterday. They moved him to the hospital."

Wallace was up in a flash, hugged the man and grabbed my hand. "Thank you so much, sir."

"Just doing my job. Tell your brother I'll see him soon," he said with a wink, and then turned and walked down the street, seeming to bend the sunlight around him. Then he was gone.

But Wallace paid no attention. She dragged me down the street and then broke into a sprint. I followed her through the streets, until we came to a large industrial style building. Wallace slowed and allowed me to catch up, before she walked through the doors and to the front desk.

"Can I help you?" a nice looking woman asked.

Wallace nodded and forced a smile onto her face. "Yes, is there a George Fredricks staying here?" she asked, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

"Let me check," the lady said, and began typing. Wallace's face was hopeful and her eyes were wide as the woman made the final click. "Yes, there is," she said with a smile.

Wallace let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank gods," she mumbled. "Can I see him?"

The lady raised an eyebrow. "Are you of relation?"

Wallace nodded. "I'm his... granddaughter," she said hurriedly.

"And this is...?" the receptionist asked, gesturing towards me.

"My boyfriend," Wallace said quickly, smiling as she gripped my hand and held it up for the lady to see. I smiled as well, wrapping my arm around her, adding to the persona. I'm sure my nervouse smile and blush helped.

"Alright," the lady said, handing us passes. "He's room 113."

Wallace nodded in thanks, and we walked quickly to the elevator. Once inside, we let our grips go, and Wallace let out a sigh of relief.

In front of his room, Wallace sucked in a deep breath, and pushed the door open. The room was full of wires and tubes, and a beeping machine sat next to a very old sleeping man.

"Georgie?" Wallace whispered, tapping his shoulder lightly. "Georgie!" she said louder, causing the man to wake, and stare up at her with wide eyes.

"Wallace!" he gasped, sitting up as best he could.

"Oh, Georgie," Wallace mumbled, breaking down to tears.

George put his wrinkled hand on her cheek and wiped a wet drop away. "Wallace," he whispered. "Where have you been all these years? You look the exact same as I remember..."

Wallace smiled, kissing his forehead. "Georgie, I can't tell you where I've been, only that I've been safe."

"You aren't real, are you?" George asked quietly. "I've seen you so many times before in my dreams. I must be dreaming again," he said sadly.

"No!" Wallace said strongly. "I'm real." She held out her arm. "Here, feel my skin. I'm real, Georgie."

He touched her arm and closed his eyes. "I haven't been called Georgie since the day you disappeared. You know I never stopped looking for you."

Wallace nodded, tears building. "Well now you've found me," she whispered.

George glanced at me and held my gaze. "Who's this?" he asked.

Wallace smiled and gestured me over. "This is Ryan. He helped me get here. He... he saved me."

George nodded at me, looking me over. "I like you better than Warren," he finally said.

Wallace's eyes grew wide, and she stammered. "No, no. It's not—"

"Thank you, sir," I said, shaking his hand.

He took another look at Wallace, and smiled. "Thank you for finding me. It means more to me than you will ever know. Everything I have worked for since the day you went away has led to this point."

Wallace's cheeks were stained with tears, and she whispered, "I love you, Georgie."

He took her cheek in his hand and smiled. "I love you too, Wallace."

I pulled Wallace a chair up, and she sat next to her dying brother for two hours before something happened. They had been talking about their childhood, their parents, their house, when George suddenly stiffened. The beeping monitor started going crazy; the green line moved faster.

George gripped Wallace's hand and his eyes bulged before he relaxed. The monitor was one solid beep now, and Wallace began silently crying as the line flattened.

Nurses rushed in and I made an executive decision that we needed to bolt. I grabbed Wallace around the waist and dragged her out of the room while she struggled to go back to her dead brother.

"Georgie!" she cried, clawing at my hands, trying to loosen my tight grip.

"Wallace," I whispered, pulling her towards the elevator. "Wallace, we need to leave."

Once the doors closed, she took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. "He said the house is mine," she whispered.

"Well," I said, buying for time while I thought of the right thing to say. "Let's go back there and stay the night, okay?"

She nodded weakly and we started back to her house. The walk was long, and I could tell Wallace was exhausted. I half carried her back through the streets, and when we got back to the house, she couldn't even make it through the window.

I climbed through and unlocked the door, but I found her sitting on the curb.

"Wallace?" I asked, carefully coming up behind her.

She looked up at me with wide green eyes. "My baby brother is dead," she whispered, folding her arms across her knees and resting her head there.

I grabbed around her waist and pulled her up. "Come on, Wallace. It's getting dark."

She shuffled into the house and back towards her room, returning with a blanket. "I'm sorry about this, but I'd really appreciate it if you slept on the couch. My brother's room... I just don't think it's right to sleep there," she said through clenched teeth, an attempt to stay strong.

"Of course," I said quietly. I took the blanket from her, and sprawled out across the old couch, softly drifting off after a few minutes of silence.

* * *

><p>I was jostled from a deep sleep by a loud crash of thunder and a yelp. I glanced at my watch: three-thirty. Wallace scrambled into the living room with a blanket and a pillow, and looked at me desperately. "Ryan?" she whispered.<p>

"Hmm?" I asked, mind clouded with sleep. She tip-toed over to the couch and sat on the end.

"Mind if I sleep here?" she asked meekly, face burning.

I nodded and moved over, making room for her. She curled up next to me, and stared at me wide-eyed.

"I'm scared," she whispered finally.

I sat up and faced her. "The thunder can't get you in here," I said in an attempt to calm her down.

"I know," she sighed. "I just hate storms." Another boom of thunder rocked the house, and Wallace jumped up and began wringing her hands. "Ryan!" she whined, dragging my name out as long as she could.

I sighed and pried my body off the couch, wrapping her in a short hug. "Wallace, please try to get some sleep," I begged.

She nodded and sat back down, resting her head against her knees. After a few moments of blissful silence, she spoke. "Where is Lady Artemis?"

I bit my lip, happy for the cover of darkness. "She's in Zion National Park," I said, opting for the truth.

Wallace cocked her head. "How do you know?" she whispered.

"My, uh, sister. She told me," I lied. "In that letter she wrote."

"Oh," Wallace breathed. The minutes ticked by, and the storm subsided. I expected Wallace to leave at any moment, but instead, I felt her head hit my shoulder. I glanced over, and took in her sleeping form curled up against mine.

God dammit, what was I doing? Cuddling with a hunter of Artemis, who just happened to be my mother, should be the last thing I wanted to do.

But instead of pushing Wallace's warm body away, I pulled her closer and let sleep take over.

* * *

><p>[<strong><em>AN_**]: LOVE WALLACE AND RYAN OMG.

Review and love me.

* * *

><p>-camille<p> 


	5. Eos

[**_A/N_**]: Love me.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Lunar Halo<em>**

_Chapter Five: Eos_

* * *

><p>Something soft was tickling my nose, but when I brushed it away, something pressed against me stirred. I opened my eyes to the top of a golden blonde head. Wallace's hair was softly tousled, and her face scrunched as the sunlight hit it. I carefully shook her shoulder and she sat up as quickly as she could, sliding away from me. She stuttered for a moment before standing up.<p>

"Yes?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and rubbing my bed head.

She glared at me slightly before stalking back to her room. When she returned, she had changed back into her pink dress, and was carrying my backpack and her hunter's pouch.

"We need to get you some new clothes," I said, gesturing to her attire.

"What's wrong with my dress?" she asked, obviously deeply offended.

"Wallace, it's pretty and all, but we're traveling across the country, and that's a bit difficult in a dress I would imagine," I said carefully, so as to not upset her anymore than I already had.

She scoffed slightly, throwing my backpack at me. "Whatever," she mumbled and started walking towards the door. When I didn't move, she turned around and stared at me. "Well, are you coming or not?"

"Huh?" I asked, slightly startled. "Oh, right." I jumped up, following her out there door. "Where to?"

Wallace turned around and rolled her eyes. "Where else would we be going, smart one?" When I shrugged, she threw her arms up in exasperation. "West!"

* * *

><p>Wallace pulled me into a thrift store.<p>

"All you need is a shirt and a pair of jeans," I reminded her, but she ignored me.

"Do you have anything... vintage?" Wallace asked the girl at the register.

She slowly popped the bubble she had blown with her gum, and pointed vaguely to our left. I found it slightly annoying, but Wallace smiled and thanked her multiple times.

She pulled out an old silvery dress and held it up. "What do you think?" she asked, pressing it against her body.

I rolled my eyes. "You're like a shining beacon of beauty, Wallace. Now hurry up!" I said impatiently.

She sighed and placed it back. "Right. Shirt and pants."

It took her a total of twenty whole minutes to find the "perfect" pair of jeans, and then another ten to locate the "matching" top. I could feel my testosterone fading as she pranced out of the dressing room and squealed.

"I look wonderful!" She straightened her circlet headband and twirled a ringlet around her finger.

"Well then let's go!" I demanded.

After she paid a grand total of ten bucks for her thrifty clothes, we finally headed out.

Wallace continued to twirl her hair nervously as we walked on, glancing at cars from time to time as we strolled though the parking lot. Her eyes locked on an old green Ford, and she began hurrying towards it.

"Wallace, what're you doing?" I asked, getting a horrible feeling. She tried the door and it swung open. "Wallace! This is so illegal!" I hissed, looking around.

"Just get in the car," she mumbled under her breath. "Act natural and no one will notice."

I reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat and settled down. Wallace hot wired the car in thirty seconds flat, and I couldn't help but admire her ability. Once it was started, she backed out smoothly and sped off down the highway.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

"West," she said firmly without taking her eyes off the road.

"Well I guessed as much. But how about the in between parts?" I was beginning to get worried about exactly where Wallace was headed, so I pulled out the map. "Okay, so we're just outside of Chicago." I traced the road with my finger to the nearest city. "This car needs gas and I think we can make it Aurora."

Wallace nodded and pressed the gas petal to the floor, sending the car flying forward.

* * *

><p>Hours of driving later, a determined Wallace sped through the town of Aurora, going at least ninety. I held on for dear life, and yelled, "Wallace, slow down! You're gonna get us—"<p>

Sirens wailed behind us and Wallace cursed. She pushed the petal even harder, escalating our speed to over a hundred.

I glanced frantically behind us. "Wallace, pull over!" I begged.

She shook her head. "We're in a stolen car," she said simply, swerving to avoid a slower car.

As the chase progressed, Wallace left a trail of angry car owners behind her, and a trail of even angrier police officers followed us closely. I, being the innocent bystander, resolved to tell them that Wallace was a madwoman who had kidnapped me and was trying to sell me into slavery on the black-market.

Hopefully they'd buy it.

Suddenly police cars pulled out twenty yards in front of us, boxing us in. Wallace had no choice but to slam on the breaks.

"Run!" I commanded right before jumping out of the car and sprinting into the woods that lined both sides of the highway. She wasn't far behind, and my legs frantically carried me as fast as they could. Wallace was the fastest runner I had ever met, but for some reason, she didn't pass me. I glanced behind me just in time to see a police man grab her roughly.

She cried out as he twisted her arm behind her back. Her eyes met mine and she screamed, "Ryan!" I slowed down, starting to backtrack, when she shook her head frantically. "Run!" she yelled as loud as she could.

I hesitated only for a moment before taking off at a sprint into the woods.

* * *

><p>It took hours of running and hiding to lose the police that closely trailed me. Somehow, I was always able to climb a tree fast enough, or pull myself behind the exact rock they wouldn't check. By the time they called off the search, dark was falling. I was alone in the middle of unfamiliar woods at night. I would never admit it to Wallace, but I was scared.<p>

After another hour of wandering, I found a small creek and pulled myself onto a flat rock. After several failed attempts to start a fire, I threw the two sticks down in frustration. "What am I going to do?" I mumbled to myself. I was lost, my only companion was in police custody, and I couldn't even start a fire. Some son of Artemis I was.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, I laid down on the cold rock and tried in vain to sleep. Finally, I sat up with determination. I was going to start a fire.

* * *

><p>I woke up the next morning to the glow of sunlight through autumn leaves. The embers of my fire from the night before were still warm and I could smell the ashes. I yawned and pushed myself off the rock and stood up, stretching as tall as I could. When I relaxed, I let my shoulders hunch. My defeated posture reminded me that I still had to break Wallace out.<p>

It had been a lonely night, no one to talk to or even have around to prove that I wasn't alone. But last night, huddling by the fire, I felt more alone than ever. I was beginning to realize that Wallace was more than just a way to find Artemis.

She was my friend.

And I had abandoned her, allowed her to be captured. I began to get angry at myself, remembering that I was lost in the woods, with no where to go except prison, because no matter the outcome of today, that is where I would end up at some point.

What a lovely thought.

* * *

><p>After hours of walking, I ended up right back where I had started. In frustration, I threw my backpack on the ground and sat down.<p>

There was no hope.

I closed my eyes, expecting to see black, but instead I was greeted by a rosy red background. I opened them in shock and found the rest of the world cloacked in the strange glow. After a few seconds, the color faded, and someone behind me cleared her throat.

"Ryan," she said with a smile as I whipped around.

"Yes," I replied, cautiously moving towards her.

Her smile broadened and she closed the distance between us quickly. She was taller than me, but for some reason, I was not as intimitated as I should have been. My eyes were wide as she traced my cheekbones with her warm fingers.

"You are troubled," she whispered.

I nodded, her hands still on my face. "A bit," I said nervously.

"Could I help with that?" she asked, moving one of her hands down to grasp mine. Her eyes were sincere and pleading, but I had read about women like her. She sounded like an out of place siren.

I backed away and said, "Only if you tell me who you are."

Her smile returned. "A smart boy you are. I am Eos, goddess of the dawn. I watched you as night fell, and through the darkness I saw your young forehead wrinkle in worry. I only want to smooth those lines," she said, reaching out to touch my forehead. I realized that it had been creased. She was beautiful to say the least, and I felt my resolve weakening. I was sure she could sense it, and after seconds of staring at me, she leaned forward and planted a small kiss on my cheek. "It has been years since a demigod visited me."

"I– I need your help," I demanded lightly.

Eos narrowed her eyes playfully and smirked. "I'm sure you do. And I'd be happy to help." She placed a hand on my neck and tried to pull me closer to her.

I almost gave into the divine beauty that stood before me, but Wallace's face flashed in my mind. "Wait!" I said suddenly and Eos paused, looking at me quizzically. "I need you to help me get my friend out of a bit of a mess."

Eos cocked an eyebrow. "Is he as handsome as you?" she asked casually.

I studdered and replied carefully, "She's actually a girl."

Her expression darkened. "Oh. I suppose you have no real need of me then. I shall be off."

"No!" I said quickly. "She's just a friend, honest. If you help me, I'll help you," I offered.

Eos smiled a bit and nodded. "I'll help you." She grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me close to her, just inches away from her face. "But I'm going to need a little insurance," she whispered, and kissed me. I can't say that I didn't enjoy it, and she was so warm, like her very body radiated the chill heat of morning. When she broke the kiss, I could feel a smile spreading across my lips. "Shall we be off?" she asked.

"For what?" My mind was numb and I could barely remember my own name, let alone the fact that I was trying to get Wallace back.

Eos laughed and smirked. "It seems as if I've charmed you more than I anticipated. But I promised I'd get you to your friend."

Wallace. Right.

* * *

><p>[<strong><em>AN_**]: Ryan's a plaaaayyyyaaaa.

Review.

P.S. Happy Camille is happy! I love it when things work out exactly how they should. The best friends ended up together. Heart.

* * *

><p>-camille<p> 


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